Cakra
by butaneandthebeast
Summary: Series of interconnected drabbles, Fuugen and Jinno, about stuff and reincarnation. Different POVs.
1. 1st Stanza

Series of interconnected drabbles, Fuugen and Jinno, about stuff and reincarnation. Different POVs. Mmkay, so I also wanted to say that one of my favourite fanfics (which is basically headcannon for me) is calledWaitress by lupi81. It's basically pretty much perfect. So seeing as how I've had to accept that I'll never be able to write something as perfect as that, I've had to write my own. But her's has been a massive massive influence on mine, safe to say. Oh, and one last thing. In the show and manga most times, Mugen actually doesn't swear at Fuu, he just uses very derogatory verb tenses/pronouns. I just needed to say that. You can read my shitty stuff now~

**Stanza 1.**

Every time she lamented to someone, they always had a variation of the same response to her; that if she had met them, it was due to their fates intertwined. It had gone on so long it had almost been drilled into her head. But she'd never thought just how interconnected they really were.

In that lifetime itself, she hadn't been able to live without him. Her mother had often talked about the big brother Fuu had. He had died when he was 3 days old, before they even had a chance to name him, but her mother never ever forgot him. He would have been 5 years older to Fuu if he had lived, and whenever things got tough and whenever she was alone, Fuu would often yearn for him, for what she imagined a big brother's shelter would be like, a big broad back protecting her and playing with her and never leaving her. Whenever her mother had been asked about her children, she'd always answered two, never talking about her son's early death until probed. She had never called Fuu an only child either. Fuu often thought that if her big brother had been alive, her father wouldn't have left. Maybe had more of a reason to stay together as a family, even if they were a nomadic one in constant peril.

So, when she had found Jin, she thought she had found him. The soul of her older brother, unable to stay in that frail 3 day old baby body, had found another, sturdier body, a warrior's body, and then found her. She had found it easy to hide behind that broad back in times of fear, or to lean on that sturdy shoulder in times of worry. But the same fears she had for her father remained for Jin. When Jin had left with Sara, without protest or fuss, it had just underlined that to her. It was the loss of blood family for Fuu all over again.

But Mugen. Mugen was different. In Mugen she never saw the family she had had. She only seen the family she wanted to make. In Fuu's mind, Mugen's back was broader than Jin's. When she cried, she wished that Mugen would notice and console her, never Jin. Whenever she was kidnapped, she hadn't ever mentally screamed for Jin. It was always Mugen.

So when they had parted ways, she had promised not to look back. She had lied to them about lying which way the toss had landed, in an effort to make them hate her, so that she wouldn't go back running to them a minute later. But the mind was an extraordinary thing. Even though she had made every effort to wrench herself free from their company, not a day went by which wasn't filled with sighs and wishes for their return, one's more than the other's. It was the only way she got through every day.


	2. 2nd Stanza

**Stanza 2 Part 1.**

"You should go to the teahouse over in the other town." The voice seemingly wasn't directed at anyone, but a stranger picked up his head slightly in acknowledgement. "Girl there, prettiest in the province must be, an' isn't scared of anyone, ronin, ryukyuan, yagyuu. But that all's not important, it's her voice. Voice makes gozes cry, it does."

The stranger finally faced the speaker, and a chill ran down the man's spine. The stranger had ryukyuan markings and all, but the terrifying part was the smile that split his face. Downright menacing. He gave a pat as he stepped out, and the man with the tip could feel the underlying power. Good thing he'd sent him over.

Mugen made his way over to the other town, not much of a walk, to be honest. After all the walking he'd done with those two, walking from village to village in such a small province seemed almost too easy. He walked through the town, aimlessly, only to find throngs of people, men and women alike, surging towards what seemed to be an ordinary teahouse, chattering at top speed.

"Is she singing tonight?"

"Yeah, think she's already started."

"Why doesn't she ever say beforehand? It's not like she does it frequently either."

"Well, she's not there to sing is she? The fact that she does it should make ya satisfied."

"True, true..."

He found himself being swept in with the crowd, till he found himself standing in a nook at the far edge of the room. He could only make out the silhouette of the singer, but it didn't really matter. Her voice had reached him first, and it had seized hold of his heart. His hand had unconsciously crept towards his chest, as if in fear that his heart would stop any minute and that he would have to resuscitate it by grabbing himself by his gi throwing himself off of the nearest cliff.

She was singing a seemingly ordinary song, something about dressing up her loved ones in her kimono, but her voice was beautiful and so so so very sad, and every warble jerked something in his chest until he found himself breathless. His lungs had seized, as if they were being filled with ocean water, and he had to force his chest to move. Tears pricked his eyes, ready to fall at any second, and in the back of his mind was a frenzied rage, rage to kill someone, anyone, whoever had made her go through so much pain that every note and every line that flowed out of her mouth was like a thousand velvet coated needles pinning his soul to a board and then stabbing him repeatedly. He was dimly concious of what was happening to him, but no more able to control it than if someone had told to him to stop being. He was thankful, to whom no one knew, that he was basically in no ones eyeline, as he bent over, hands on his knees, as he struggled to breathe in air by the mouthfuls, because apparently his nose was simply for pushing snot out at this point.

He stayed in that position until the song finished, as did the performance. His brain seemed to be writhing, ripping itself into two at this point, one part needing the performance to never finish, and the other to repeatedly sighing in relief that the sensory overload was over. The hush that had blanketed the crowd as she had sung was gone, with people either leaving or settling down onto the tables, but he stayed put in his corner, untrusting of his own body for the first time in his life.

After she had finished singing, Fuu was putting her biwa away when she heard the squabbling between two other waitresses.

"You go!"

"No way! You owe me anyway, remember?"

"I'll pay you back another way, so deal with it this time please!" She clapped her hands and bowed her head in request.

"What's the matter?" Fuu asked as she made her way over.

"Okami-san wants us to check up on that man over there, but we're both a bit scared."

Fuu squared her shoulders, "I'll go, it's ok. Instead, you guys start taking orders in my stead."

"Thank you!" the girls chimed as they scampered away.

Fuu made her way to the silhouette that nobody wanted to confront when a huge arm blocked her.

Mugen was aware of the singer coming his way, but he hadn't moved away. Or rather, he didn't know where to move to, because the only way out of the corner was to walk right into her, and he was not going to let anyone see his face in the state that he was. It was then that he had realized that two hulking men had blocked the singer's path. He had quickly wiped his face with a corner of his haori and placed a hand on his sword, when he realised in surprise that he wasn't going to really need it.

Fuu looked at the offending arm, almost as thick as her thigh, she mused. She looked up at the owner, a full-length sweep up and sweep down, with the best expression of mixed boredom and disgust she could manage. The arm still didn't move. Instead, a grating voice called out "Well sweetheart, why don't you come sing for us?"

Fuu was trying to remain calm. She had bet that she could go a month without causing a ruckus, and it was day 22. Really, why did doltslike this have to make it so hard for a super cute girl like her? She was about to ignore them and duck under the arm when the other guy grabbed her upper arm in a bruising grip and whispered an obscene sentiment in her ear.

And, so naturally, Fuu saw red.

"Ooohh, what a big strong hand you have, sir~" She purred as she disentangled his hand off her arm. "You must have a big strong mind too, ne~?" She gripped the wrist in her hand as she unfurled fingers of the arm that had moments ago been clutching her, a grinning, cocksure face flashing through her mind. "Now let's see if that big, strooongg mind can understand this~ See, now, imma count on your fingers until 5. Now, if at 5 you don't leave me alone, I'll make sure that you regret it." Guffaws had followed her statement. At least, until she started counting.

She focused all her strength into her index finger against the index finger of the hand she was gripping, like she had once watched someone do. "One," She announced, as everyone within a 10 metre radius heard a resounding crack.

"Two," she repeated the process on the middle finger, bending it back till it broke. The man who had initially blocked her way finally snapped out of the shock he was in, realised what was happening, and drawn out her sword. But Fuu was prepared. She kicked the man in the crotch and then knocked the sword out of his hand, making it fly in some random direction. She then drew the sword of the man who's hand she was still holding, and stabbed the swordless oaf with it. She loosed the hand from her grip as she stood in an open stance against the two men, and uttered one word.

"Run."

The men fled without further persuasion. Fuu giggled under her breath as she wiped the sword on her apron. She thought that the day would go bad initially, but that encounter had lightened her mood immensely. She then realised with a start that she had been on her way to doing something before the interruption, and re-started going towards the stock-still silhouette.

"Sir, can I-" the words died on her lips when she saw who it was she was addressing. She went still for a full minute, mind in utter incoherence. Then her body surged into action. The sword clattered onto the floor as she shrieked "MUGEN!" like some god-forsaken demon baby and headbutted herself into his chest.

Mugen still didn't understand what was happening to be honest. He was half-inclined to believe that this whole day had been a dream, some vapid wish-fulfilling hallucination, and he tried to recall if he'd had any wild mushrooms within the past couple of days. At this point point the only thing which kept him from thinking he had gone completely high was the nail from the beam that he'd landed on that was digging into his back.

It was Fuu. His Fuu. Fuu. Fuu'd remembered him. Fuu'd remembered the trick he used to pull. Fuu'd learnt to fight. Fuu was beautiful. Fuu's voice had done something to him. Again. The thoughts kept circling through his head at breakneck speed, each jostling the previous one before it could even be fully thought-out, with "Fuu" being the most prominent one of all, flying through his head in magenta wingdings till his head was almost hurting from it all. He tried to marshall his thoughts, but had to go through many surreptitious throat clearings before he was able to say "I missed you too, brat."

At the sound of his voice, Fuu shrieked a bit more, and snuggled herself deeper into his chest as his arms wrapped around her. He'd never hugged her before this, he realised. He had been an idiot for it, because the way she felt wrapped against him was perfect. It was then that he saw that the whole teahouse had gone deathly silent, and that all eyes were riveted to them.

"Hey," he lowered his head down to her ear, "how about I get my dango now?" She'd laughed (sounding like a bell, he'd noted), at that, and looked up at him with adoring eyes that stabbed at his heart.

"Mmkay, come sit over here!" She dragged him over to the table nearest to the kitchen, and then practically skipped into the kitchen. As soon as she had stepped out, it was as if they teahouse had let go of the collective breath they had been holding, and they all started speaking at once.

"He's the one Fuu talks about?"

"The singer loves that kind of guy?"

"No way, is he the one who taught her how to fight?"


	3. 2nd Stanza Pt 2

**2nd Stanza Part 2.**

Mugen can only take so much new information in before he wants a large comet to strike the earth. Thinking never really was his forte, really. So he takes in a few snatches, and there are certain words that glow and jump out of their sentences, as if they were made of fireflies. Fight, love... talks about... him... the words can-can in his head, in and out in on a fast rotation, giving his brain sharp pains whenever they kick their legs up.

But it's good pain, he decides, very good pain. The sentiment wins over all the others that have been warring for attention, even trumping fear at the mention of the word love. Because if you really thought about it, he'd wandered for three years without even coming close to someone like Fuu, so really, saving up for someone "better" was an idiotic notion. And if he could convince Fuu to let him cart them around... well then, that was perfect. If not...? He would think of something.

Fuu can't contain... whatever she's feeling. It's too much too sudden which sounds like a strange notion seeing as how she wished this every single day for about 3 years. She doesn't know what to do with her hands, she doesn't know what to do with her legs, her body moves in some erratic rhythm of her own in some bizarre effort to cope. She drives everyone around her mad, to the point where the old ladies at the pots shoo her away, only to call her back with trays laden with food just to make her stay out of the kitchen.

He's been watching the door the way a dog watches their owner ready their leash after hearing the word "walk", and his whole being shifts when she walks out with two trays on each arm and one on her head. Her hips sashay their way through the tables and he notices all the places where the curves filled out and in. If the Fuu three years ago was a cub, this here was the tigress. She set the trays down on the table and he tore his eyes away before she noticed his excessive ogling.

"Damn. And here I only asked for dango." It was a miracle he was able to talk, with the smell of the grilled meat wafting so deep inside his lungs that he wanted to roll his eyes back in pleasure.

"You don't want it? Fine, more for me~" She mock pulls the tray towards her, and giggles at the panicked reaction.

"Wasn't complaining." He grumbles.

They talk. And talk. And they don't really stop talking. Neither of them can believe that they're talking so much, to each other at that, but it seems strangely natural. She learns that he's been wandering around, doing odd jobs to earn his keep. He learns that she had started teaching the neighbourhood folks how to read, but didn't really have the heart to charge them, which meant that she had to restart waitressing. What he'll never say is that he almost had a proper job a couple of times, but every time her face flashed in his mind he got restless and up and left, as if subconsciously searching for her. What she doesn't mention is that she had thought of teaching after she dreamt of hugging Mugen every night, of her heart breaking at his expression when he had admitted he couldn't read, and his bravado when he concealed it. He doesn't mention that he carries the ukiyo-e picture of her in his scabbard, and that he wasted half of his writing practice paper in trying to capture her form from memory. And she never mentions that she after bidding them goodbye, she had gone to that wrecked church and searched for his tanto and kept in concealed on the other side of her waist in a sheath she had handmade and learnt to fight with. They both snort at each other like they are the most ridiculous things anyone's ever heard of, and they're both convinced that they're the last sane people left on earth.

He walks her home, and his heart almost crumbles at the state of the little hut she has staked out as her own, far away from the teahouse, and in a clearing short and equal ways away from the seashore and the forest. He understands the reason why she smells like ocean spray now, a siren-like scent that wafted towards him every time she moved, and drove him on edge.

She's embarrassed to show him the hut. She loves it, but it's barely a roof and four walls, and she knows it. She steels herself, banishing her shyness away, as she asks him if he wants to stay. He quirks his eyebrows, true Mugen style, eyes asking if she's sure. She nods, almost imperceptibly, and he kicks off his geta with their odd kerflunk-thump before stepping in. Her heart warms at the fact that he considers this a legitimate home despite its dilapidated appearance.

He could watch her all day. He drinks in her form as she flits from corner to corner, trying to arrange two futons in the tiny space while still keeping them with a semblance of distance and respectability from each other, and it's like he's wearing blinders so that his whole vision can see only her. When she catches his eye she beams at him with doe eyes and his heart contracts painfully in his chest. He knows the feeling well, but he's never been this happy to experience it, unlike before. He's decided.

She can feel his eyes on her, and she feels shy and painfully aware, but she loves it. She basks in his attention, joyful over the fact that she can keep his attention trained on her with the intensity of a hawk citing it's prey. She nearly buckles over a few times at the looks he gives her, but forces herself to stay upright and relatively unaffected. She has no idea how she'll get through the night.


	4. 3rd Stanza Part 1

_A/N: Thank you for the kind reviews everyone, you have no idea how much I appreciate them. Charas might be somewhat OOC, especially since I can't swear and thus write it awkwardly. Plus I wanted this to be fluffy so... yeah... sorry. I know I was meant to say other stuff but I forget what so meh._

It's some unnamed form of blissful symbiosis. She goes to the teahouse, he disappears, reappearing to pick her up, full of scratches and sunburns. She refrains from asking. They talk, they laugh, and they do silly things together by the beach, as if making up for the childhood they didn't have the luxury of experiencing. Aside from the time he leaves her at the teahouse, he's by her side all the time. He accompanies her when she goes grocery shopping, ready to pounce on anyone who poses any sort of threat to her. He'd accompanied her when she was bored the first time, thinking that it would be a one-time thing, but seeing the way every man looked at her, with fawning heart eyes made it clear how imperative it was that he stay there to make sure that she remained... unharmed. Yes. That was it. It was her safety that was important, he'd nodded sanctimoniously in his head.

A few times some idiot, maybe not associating the hulking figure to the petite lady, had been as brazen as to try and pick-pocket and purse-snatch her. Fuu'd never said it, for fear of encouraging him any further, but she loved the way Mugen fought. To watch him in motion was better than watching any kabuki play there was to offer. She'd mentally named his moves long ago when she'd travelled with him, and now as she watched him curb stomp the petty thieves, she noticed the new ones in his repertoire, naming them too. Her favourite was the deranged top, where he spun on the back of his neck, hammering the adversary with his powerful legs. She'd always watched with her heart in her throat, for fear of his neck snapping in an attempt gone wrong, but at the same time, she was mesmerised by the way his hips jerked, piloting his legs and his momentum, and way his swords spun. She'd always had to snap out of it and stop Mugen before he turned them into pulp. But Mugen always stopped when her voice got high and firm enough, and she never missed the look of pride as he would toss her purse over to her and oh so casually drape his arm over her shoulders.

It had seemed to good to be true.

And the end seemingly came a couple of weeks later.

It came in the form of a messenger. Breathless, shaking, his horse foaming at the mouth from utter exhaustion. The messenger had originally come from this village, before going into the service of the province's daimyo. He'd ridden harder than was necessary to give them warning before it was officially due, so that they had time to prepare. He'd made everyone gather at the marketplace. It turned out that the daimyo needed a new wave of servants, since many of them had died in battle serving his soldiers, and all the unmarried women 17 and over were obligated to serve.

Fuu and Mugen had taken the message silently, the former stoic and latter fuming, as they had walked back home. Fuu had mechanically started packing as soon as she entered the cottage, holding back tears that threatened to fall. She made her voice overly chirpy as she addressed the sullen figure before her.

"You can stay here if you want! Although you probably want to travel, ne~"

"What's the matter with you Fuu? How can you act ok? The fuck you're fine!"

"So what do you want me to do? Cry?"

"I'm going to murder those bastards. Then you won't have to go."

"Stop growling idiocies, Mugen. You kill this daimyo? So what? Will the war stop? Will the need for servants stop? And what's to say that the next daimyo wouldn't be more corrupted than the one we have now?"

Mugen didn't know how to answer her. He didn't know what to think either. His way was the direct approach, and it had usually worked for him. But now that Fuu was talking, he could see the sense in her words as well. At that point, his train of thought was broken by the sound of a thud and a strangled sob. He looked up to see that she'd dropped the water jug, chest heaving as she sobbed as silently as she could as water drenched her legs.

He made his way to her in a flash, picking her up in his arms and sitting down on the futon with her in his lap. He tried to hug her and wipe her tears away at the same time, and he made shushing noises because he didn't know what to say. But instead of quieting down, Fuu only cried harder.

"Hey, look at me." Fuu raised her watery eyes to his, and he'd never felt a stronger urge to run a swords through a man.

"Marry me." Fuu stopped mid-sob, unable to react. Her eyes grew to the size of saucers and she just stared at him unblinkingly.

"Let's get married. He only wants unmarried girls, right? If you're married, you don't have to go."

"You don't have to do that for me Mugen." She shook her derisively, she whispered, halfway between a laugh and a sob.


	5. 3rd Stanza Part 2

So, I found myself writing even though I had no time, which meant that the current chapter is unfinished. But I thought I'd publish it anyway, as part 1, to give me additional motivation~ Thank you for everyone who said kind and pretty words for this ^u^ I seriously appreciate it!

I also know that Mugen and Fuu are probably going to get even more OOC from now on, but this is fluff, so I thought I'd indulge myself. I'm sorry if you think I read everyone's characters wrong, but let's all just think of this as a guilty pleasure not even close to canon~

Mugen picked her up without a word. Fuu struggled in surprised, but quieted down when he feinted dropping her.  
He started walking out of the house, and kept on walking, far beyond where they normally ventured. He finally slowed down, and gruffly asked her to close her eyes. She obeyed wordlessly, still in shock with all the was happening.  
"I'm putting you down."  
She nodded.  
"Open your eyes."  
She opened her eyes, and looked, and kept on looking.  
In a small clearing, closer to the beach than their little hut-funny how she thought of it as theirs no- stood a modest, almost complete house.  
She moved her head fast, between Mugen and the house, as if her moving fast enough would give her the explanation she was looking for.  
"W-w-ha-?" Her voice was faint, failing her.  
"It's the house I've been building. I was going to ask you to marry me once I had finished it, but there'd be no use for it if you're gone." Mugen was stiff, as if he was reciting something he'd carefully rehearsed. "So?"  
Fuu moved faster than Mugen had ever thought she could move, and she had slammed into him before he could react. She... was hugging him. Why couldn't the brat just answer normally?  
"So?" He asked again.  
"It's beautiful!" She shrieked from the crook of his neck, where her face was currently buried.  
Mugen felt exhiliration. Nothing he'd ever made before had ever been called beautiful before. But it still wasn't the the answer he was looking for.  
"Of course, stupid. Would I be hugging you otherwise?"  
With that, all of Mugen's worries were erased, as if by magic.  
"Hey, wanna see the inside?" The pride in his voice was so strong that she had to fight the urge to giggle in case she hurt his feelings.  
"Yeah!"  
He clasped her hand, and she felt the hard calluses and cuts. As she glanced at him, everything clicked into place. All the unexplained wounds and bruises and cuts were not from shady activity like she had feared, but from building this house.


	6. 4th Stanza

_A/N: Of course I'm updating this fic when I'm inundated with papers. But the muse strikes when the muse strikes._

"And your last name is...?" the official at the marriage registry office asked, looking up to Mugen's face expectantly. Fuu held her breath, the back of her head twinging. She hadn't thought that far, somehow in a happy daze ever since she had agreed to Mugen's proposal. She still found it hard to believe, and this was hardly how she thought her wedding would go down, but here they were.

She snapped back to reality when she heard Mugen promptly answer "Narumi.", with a hint of a smirk.

"And how do you spell that...?"

"Roar and sea."

"Right, right, thank you. Well, congratulations, and I wish you a happy marriage!" The clerk beamed at them as he ushered them hurriedly, but not unkindly, outside. It was easy to see his rush; apparently Mugen was not the only one who had concluded that marriage was the ideal escape route, and a horde of couples stood queuing, waiting to get married.

Fuu didn't know where to look, or how to talk to her... husband. How weird that sounded, she mentally giggled. Her newly-minted husband had no idea either, and so they silently started walking towards the market place, heads down against the beating sun. By the time they arrived, they were sweating profusely, and Fuu looked longingly at the cold somen noodles the passers-by were happily slurping down. Mugen followed her line of sight and grinned. Leave it to his Fuu to think of food even in times of awkwardness. He moved ahead of her and ordered some to go, walking to the stream nearby, and trusting Fuu to follow him. Wordlessly they settled down, and Mugen opened the leaves of food, leaving Fuu to stare at him appreciatively and then lunge for the food. Mugen watched her eat, a weird sort of contentedness filling him.

"Sorry." His gruff voice broke the silence.

"Huuhh? Fowwha?" Fuu quickly swallowed "Sorry, for what?"

"I... I know this wasn't the wedding you imagined."

"That's for sure."

Mugen hung his head, inwardly cursing himself. He really was good for nothing. The one person he really loved, and he couldn't even give her anything she wanted. Or rather,deserved."

"For one, I never even thought I would get married. So I didn't ever bother thinking about weddings. Or grooms. And if I did, I crushed the thoughts."

Mugen's head snapped back up at her, at the thoughts he thought she had finished voicing.

"Why?"

"No one wants to marry the daughter of a disgraced samurai, especially one that, in the eyes of the public, ran away deserting his family. Not only would there be no dowry involved, but there wouldn't be any prestige either... So, to be honest, you've really exceeded expectations here, Mugen!" She looked up at him cheerfully, eyes crescents of happiness and cheeks full with food. In all honesty, she resembled Momo. So the saying was right... pets and owners did eventually resemble each other.

"Pffft" Mugen really couldn't hold it in any longer, his wife really did resemble her flying squirrel.

"Wha?" Fuu self-consciously touched her face, unaware of what was happening.

"You- you... You look like Momo..." Mugen finally choked out between bouts of laughter. Fuu was entranced. She had never really seen Mugen laugh openly like this. Normally there was a smirk here and a chuckle there, but full-blown laughter hadn't really been part of Mugen's repertoire. Carefully moving the noodles aside, she launched herself at him, trying to tickle him to keep on making him laugh. Soon they were rolling about, trying to out-do the other while protecting themselves, when Mugen cried out. But he was too late, and Fuu ended up in the stream anyway.

She clambered out, dripping wet, but still incredibly cheerful and unscathed, much to Mugen's relief. He turned his back to her and squatted. "Here, get on."

"Where?"

"Home." The thrill of the word and the connotations, as well as the offered mode of transportation, all sent shivers down her spine.

"No."

"No?"

"Eat your noodles first. See, I saved some for you."

"But-"

"The faster you eat, the faster we can get going."

Mugen obliged, eating, as he watched Fuu lie down in a strip of sunlight across from him, like a cat in a sunspot. She had her arm across her eyes to shield them from the sun, which meant that he could appreciate, without fear of being found out, her perfect figure. His eyes followed the lines and curves, from the swell of her chest to the curve of her waist and then the flare of her hips. He felt a sudden urge go through him, an urge to hold her close, and he quickly busied himself with eating his noodles before he could feel much more.

The twinging would not go away, Fuu realised, much to her dismay. She knew this feeling. She would soon develop into an aching throb on one side of her head, and she would be dizzy and nauseous, unable to bear the slightest bit of light or noise. She had learnt from Jin that the Westerners called this a migraine. She hoped Mugen would finish soon so that she would be at home before it got much worse.

A few moments later, she heard rustling. "Here." She opened her eyes to find Mugen looking back over his shoulder, offering to piggyback her again. She tried to get up, gratefully accepting his offer, till a spell of dizziness hit, making her stumble. She felt strong hands grasp her arms, preventing her from falling.

"Hey, you ok?" Mugen's voice was gruff, but full of concern.

"I... I think it's one of those..." Fuu's voice trailed off before she could elaborate much further, but Mugen understood. He'd seen Fuu having episodes of this back when they had been searching for her father. Usually he'd only be there to witness the onset, being driven out of wherever they would be staying on the basis of the fact that she wouldn't be able to tolerate any noise or light.

"What do you wanna do?"

"Let's just go home." Mugen could tell she was making an effort to speak. He adjusted her position on his back, and then after making sure she was secure, started the trek back up to their house.

"What now?" He had deposited her on the futon they hadn't bothered to make in the morning, and was now kneeling beside her. By now it was already late evening, and the sun was about to set soon.

"Could you close all the doors and windows please?" Mugen got up to do as she had requested, and was almost done when he saw Fuu rush past him into the surrounding trees, a little distance from the house.

"Fuu? FUU?" Mugen rushed after her, uncertain of what was happening.

He found her holding onto a tree for support, retching wickedly, and throwing up. Her face was contorted in pain, and she would make small shrieks and screams in the middle of her retching. Something twisted in Mugen's heart with every sound of pain that he heard, and he rushed to help her.

"Go away!" Fuu demanded. Mugen, in turn, made shushing noises, which he had noticed worked well on Fuu, while stroking her back. She had realised, in the middle of her puking, the cause of her stress and migraine. She was unsure of how she would now live with Mugen, as Mugen's wife. More than that, she was afraid of her wedding night. All that had somehow culminated into a migraine, and Mugen's out-of-character gentleness had been making her more and more ashamed of her worries. But she really had no strength the push away the comfort Mugen offered, so Mugen stayed until she had stopped vomiting.

When Mugen saw she had stopped, he scooped her up and proceeded to carry her to the house. She wanted to protest, but was too tired, and more importantly, very conscious of how bad her mouth smelled, to speak. Mugen deposited her in the semi-outdoor bathroom attached to their house, and proceeded to fetch soap and water for her. When she didn't move fast enough, Mugen seized the opportunity, lathering her face with the soap and washing it. He then wordlessly picked her up and deposited her back onto the futon, and then got her water.

"Anything else?" he finally asked. Uptil this point, he had been moving on some sort of instinct, without really thinking or understanding what he was doing. But now his instinct had run out, and he had no idea if he had done the right thing, much less what he ought to do next.

"Could you... turn around?" Fuu asked. At this point into the migraine, Fuu had lost most of her rationale and reserve. All she wanted was comfort and love. Meanwhile, Mugen obliged. As he did, he heard the rustling of cloth, and was puzzled. "You can turn around now." He turned around, and saw her binding lying in a heap beside her pillow, and understood. They must have been suffocating her.

"Anything else?" He asked again. In response, Fuu held up her arms, like a child wanting to be picked up. For a moment, he was too struck by the adorableness of the tableau to move. Then he cautiously crept beside her, into the futon, so as to not jostle her. He reclined against the wall their futon was set up against, and gently pulled her into his lap.

Fuu didn't know what had possessed her to do that, so when Mugen had pulled her into his arms, she had been pleasantly surprised, and very embarrassed. She lay still, too shy to move, the sound of Mugen's heart under her ear, comforting her.

He remembered how he had seen the old lady at the inn ask her maids to massage her temples when she had a headache, and tried it on Fuu, smiling when she let out a soft sigh of contentment as it alleviated her pain.

"Sorry." This time it was her who was apologizing.

"For what?"

"This is probably not how you imagined your wedding night would be."

"No, not really." He paused, and she could _hear_ the grin in his voice as he continued "But, see, I never really planned on getting married either."

"Good." She mumbled, before drifting off to sleep.


End file.
